Chapter 14
Less than a week later, we were lying next to each other again. Tonight, I wore a thin pink nightgown and brought Jenga to play before bed. We laughed as he lost again and again. My hands were always steadier. I kissed him goodnight as I always did, sweet and slow, and he pulled back as usual.
I turned to leave, but I felt his warm hand catch my wrist. Then suddenly, he was kissing me in a way that had my head spinning.
"Tell me to stop," he gasped against my lips. I pulled him even closer and he groaned.
"I can't," I admit. He yanked me onto his lap, rocking his hips against me. We fall onto the bed, him on top of me, and I know we won't stop this time.
"I want to know what it feels like," he whispers against my throat. I shiver.
With surprising speed for a Moroi, he has my nightgown on the floor and his pants somewhere tangled in the sheets. Every inch of me is pressed against him and it feels nothing like our first time, but in a way that makes this the highlight of my second life. This moment, I'm sure, is the beginning of a love story that will last forever.
The only dark cloud is the siren song of his blood rushing through the vein on his neck. This close to him, I can't help it–I sink my teeth into him. His body seized up, then instantly relaxed as the endorphins flooded his system. I drank from him, his blood rich and delicious in my mouth. I could feed from a line of men blindfolded and I'd know instantly when I tasted him. The bit of smoky taste his magic left had me pulling his hair for more. His hands were tracing every curve, but it was only background noise compared to his perfect taste.
Forcing myself to stop, I left my head buried in his neck for a moment as I licked the wound closed. I kissed his neck and rolled off him, sighing contentedly. Christian was snoring softly beside me, oblivious to the world. I kissed his forehead and laid under his arm, letting myself stay the night.
Unsurprisingly, but nevertheless disappointingly, we had a fight the next morning about how what we did was "wrong." Also unsurprisingly, we had sex again after breakfast.
Days passed in a cycle of food and blood and fighting and sex. No longer needing to hunt, I spent most of my time in his bed exploring new ways to make him scream. We lived in a fog of each other, often spending days at a time without getting dressed. I left the room occasionally for food, blood, and water for him, though it was usually cold by the time we were done. Though he still shut down when I told him how sex would be even better when we were both awakened, I knew he was getting closer to joining me forever.
Our perfect haze lasted for exactly two months and three weeks before it all fell apart.
